


Ain't No Grave

by Cynical0rang3



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Death!Harry, M/M, MoD!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 12:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15243075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynical0rang3/pseuds/Cynical0rang3
Summary: A look into the the world of the Anita Blake series when one bored immortal with too much time and power is involved. What would the supernatural beings make of an unexpected and powerful game-changer? Or in other words, a self-indulgence for my love of MOD!Harry and crossover slash pairings. MOD!Godlike!Harry, slash.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I would just like to thank you for reading this story. This is my first time writing in this crossover though I have written in the Harry Potter fandom before. Comments and critiques are appreciated; it helps me to know what needs improving ;)

Located on the fringes of existence, folded somewhere between the fabric of space and tucked neatly into the abyss of time, a vast and empty landscape stretched as far as the eye could see. 

The sky, painted in a color that could be described as pale gray, or perhaps a worn ivory. The flat ground, hard and cracked, is equally as bland in color. 

It is a pale and colorless barren world that makes up Death's Realm. 

The only features to break up the monotony are the countless circular pools of blue light embedded in the dry cracked ground. 

If one were to peer closely into these pools of light, one would be able to witness the events of various times and dimensions playing out within. There are grand scenes that range from humans dressed in armour and carrying spears engaged in war to humans constructing great structures of civilization. Then there are less grand but still fascinating scenes of humans living ordinary everyday lives in a more peaceful and technologically advanced society. And further still there are fantastical scenes to be glimpsed in the dragons that soar in the skies and the silver haired humans who ride them in one pool of light to the tall and graceful elves that roam in the forests of another. 

But perhaps most curious of all were the scenes of boys and girls with unruly raven black hair or wild crimson locks but all carrying the lightning bolt scar that they share in common performing feats of magic. 

Above the barren ground and its infinite pools of blue light floats a majestic castle with spiralling towers, arching ceilings and tall windows constructed completely from obsidian glass. The black glassy structure seems to suck in the dull light of the pale sky and the ethereal blue of the circular pools while refracting those very same rays of light at the same time. 

It is on the very tallest of the four towers that grace the glass castle that the King of this still and barren world, this lifeless plane known as Death's Realm, awakens from his most recent slumber.

Sprawled on a throne-like chair carved from ebony as dark as the long silky mane that flow over the chair's right arm-rest like spilled ink, the figure shifts infinitesimally, the only sign of their awakening in the slight twitch of pale fingers against robes of black smoke, the quiver of inky lashes and the furrowing of equally dark brows. 

"Slept well?"

Blinking open luminous burning eyes of unnatural viridity in a pale face equally devoid of humanity, the being - Man? God? - focused those two shocking spots of life and color, in an otherwise dead and monochrome world, on the opposite throne-like chair. 

Or more specifically, on the skull of a ram with thick, curling horns and long, slender visage placed on it. 

"Quite. How long has it been this time?"

A question of idle curiosity, hinted by the apathetic tones and impassive face. The being's attention already drifting to the chessboard with its pieces arranged in the midst of a game on top of the low round table separating the two chairs. It all appeared as if the being had only nodded off briefly while waiting for their opponent's move. 

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." A bitter sigh. A crack in the mask of indifference.

And indeed, time held no sway over primordial and eternal beings such as them. 

Such knowledge, however, brought no joy to the humanoid of the two.

"Tsk. You are wasting away in this self-imposed isolation of yours."

"Eternal ennui will do that. If I cannot find oblivion through active means perhaps I will try passivity instead." The being retorted with petulance.

The Other did not reply though it did emit a surprising amount of annoyance for an inanimate object that normally lacked petty human emotions.

In a retaliation too fast for the being to avoid, the ram skull had lifted itself into the air and headbutted its companion with those wickedly curved horns. 

"Ow!" An indignant shout broke the tranquility that permeates Death's Realm. "What was that for?!"

"For being a whiny human." 

The being frowned visibly in irritation, completely giving up their mask of apathy. Not many things could truly affect them but the Other was a special existence. A dark glare equal parts enticing and intimidating when being conveyed from those sharply sculpted features, unsettling in their inhuman perfection but undeniably awe-inspiring in the way icy blocks of glaciers, snow topped mountains, and golden sand dunes are. 

The oppressively dangerous aura that only comes with indomitable power, however, was completely shattered when the being accused their companion, sounding more like a whining child than an ageless immortal capable of bending reality and controlling the balance of life and death. "This situation is entirely your fault. Why did you have to go and create those blasted things?" 

"Selective amnesia is unbecoming of you. May I remind you, you were the one complaining of boredom." Settling back on its chair, the skull manages to give off the impression of shrugging its nonexistent shoulders.

"Besides, I rather doubt you would have a different fate even without the Hallows. It was the will of the universe."

Before the same conversation lead to the same rant from its companion, the Other changed the subject in well practiced ease that successfully headed off another angst-filled tantrum from its companion.

"It is nearing three centuries since you had last walked the mortal planes. Perhaps a visit to an alternate world that you have yet to explore? A change of pace will do wonders for your unfortunate regression into a toddler."

Another annoyed glare was directed to their snarky companion. "Why does Death have to be a snarky talking sheep skull?" A rhetorical moan of complaint. 

"It's a ram skull, thank you. And do I have to remind you that we are one and the same? As we are, in essence, the same entity since you have taken up your new post, you are only insulting yourself. And they call you the Master." A quick and snide reply.

The previously unidentified being, now known as the King of Death's Realm and the Master of Death, sighed in annoyed frustration. 

It has been close to five millennia since Harry Potter has died and the being known as the Master of Death took his place. 

Perhaps the title "Master of Death" is inaccurate, as most mortal constructions are bound to be. Contrary to the Tale of the Three Brothers, Death was not a sentient being that one could gain control over. While he had control over matters that related to death, it was not as simple as gaining immortality or ferrying souls to the afterlife. 

No, being Master of Death meant that the concepts of Death and Life, were personified in him, whereas before they had just been natural processes of the universe. After all, death and life are two sides of the same coin. If he was Death, then that also meant he was Life as well. It had been a shock when he first learned the true extent to his powers and duties.

His main duty was to make sure there was a balance between life and death energies. In other words, making sure souls depart for the afterlife when their time was up, not before or after. But that whole business is carried out entirely by his servants, blue wraiths that pass like ghosts through the various worlds that make up the universe Death has dominion, only making occasional pit stops in Death's Realm. It was rare but he only got involved if there was an imbalance caused from too many untimely deaths which result in a surplus of life energy that needs to be redistributed before it brings chaos down upon the mortal worlds. An even rarer occurrence is the deficit in life energy in which case it was his responsibility to ah, bring up the mortality rate as it were. 

Before he took up the post, the processes of Death and Life had been left to run naturally without a keeper, which meant a build up or lack of life energy depending on the world, and both which lead to chaos ravaging the mortal worlds. Whole worlds had been destroyed by the chaotic energy. In fact, his own original world had also been affected, the chaotic energy causing magic to slowly dwindle and would have ceased to exist along with the rest of life had it not been his timely appointment. 

So many worlds were showing signs of destruction and chaos it came to the point where the universe activated a self-defense mechanism, for lack of a better description. His collection of the Deathly Hallows had not been as much of an accident as he had thought and far from the manipulation of a mortal, no matter how far-seeing Dumbledore had been. In fact, they were trials willed by the universe and carried out by himself, chosen by the universe to be the worthy keeper to right the balance that had been left to tip precariously since the beginning of existence. Many had collected the Hallows and undergone the accompanying trials but none had been chosen in the end. Good examples were the many alternate versions of himself in the universe, some of whom he had even met, and all had collected the Hallows. However, he was the only one to have been chosen to take up the cursed title. Even after millennia he was still unclear why he was the unlucky mortal who had been chosen. Indeed, there had been nothing random about his fate as he later discovered when it had turned out that the creator of the Hallows had in fact been himself. Even now that discovery continues to confuse and vex him greatly. 

Others in his position would have been ecstatic. After all, he had unimaginable power, a literal God with control over life and death. And as far as he knew, he was the higher power of the universe, able to change the fates of billions with a single thought. His only responsibilities were little and the balance was easy to fix and maintain. But as far as he was concerned, the drawbacks outweighed the benefits. Without any responsibilities or challenges there was only so much one could fill his unlimited time with whatever that strikes his fancy, be it magic, science, music, art, people, etc - made all the more easy with the astonishing memory that came along with his new immortality. 

Nor can he completely prevent himself from falling into a state of ennui by hopping from one alternate world to another and creating alternate worlds of alternate worlds through meddling with the timeline and/or events before that lost its appeal. The mortal worlds could be amusing and he had come across many interesting individuals. Interesting enough to extend their life with the surplus life energies floating around and even bestowing some of his own powers. But his interest never remained long because he had found that immortality, whether true immortality like his own, or a bastardization through the gifting of his powers and bestowing of a longer life always changed them, resulting in the loss of the very things he had been drawn in by. Was he not a great example of how eternity could change a mortal? After all, he was no longer the naive boy who believed in good and evil. In fact, he had been the instigator of many of the natural and mortal disasters that resulted in the deaths of millions, countless of whom had been innocents, in order to right the balance between life and death. Killing millions to save whole worlds - utilitarianism at its finest.

And for all his power, he could not resign from his position and join the dead in the afterlife, the only thing he desired. As the Master who personified Life and Death, he (obviously) could not be killed. But through personal experience during his desperate phase, he could be injured, wounded, torn apart, atomized, liquefied, or otherwise obliterated, but he always recovered into the flawless, truly eternal being that he is in short order. Much like a phoenix, a creature who symbolizes life and death, as Death he could not be truly killed and as Life he was regenerated soon afterwards. It was pointless and redundant. A fact that he eventually learned, all the while being treated to a liberal amount of disparaging remarks from his only constant companion.

The ram skull, his Other Self, had been present since he first ended his mortal life as Harry Potter at the age of nineteen when he had been hit with his third Killing Curse while rounding up the remaining Voldemort followers and supporters, and subsequently made the transformation into the Master. 

He had woken up in the King's chambers of the glass castle in Death's Realm, human biology completely overturned, wrapped in the Invisibility Cloak, wearing the unbroken Resurrection Stone set in elegant silver on his left index finger, and clutching the Elder Wand in his right hand. The ram skull had been perched on the pillow next to him and nearly caused him to let out an expletive when it first spoke. However, he did let loose a string of expletives after learning that they are both the same entity, the same being, two sides of a coin. 

To say that it is a situation that he is unhappy about would be an understatement. However, while he had eventually given up ever returning to being just Harry, he is reluctant to refer to himself as the Master, a small and pointless act of denial he has yet to give up. Instead, he has taken to identifying himself as Hadrian J. Peverell, an alias that has gradually become true over time.

Even after millennia, it is still strange to acknowledge the fact that they are essentially what dissociative identity disorder would be like given form. A coping mechanism he had somehow created even before eternity truly began to drive him mad. Though whether it is only driving him insane faster is still in question.

Deciding to not argue with himself as the case may be, Hadrian tried to get himself excited at the prospect of a visit to an unfamiliar world. 

"And do you have in mind a certain location?"

"Nope."

"Of course. Spin the Deathstick it is then." Not even bothering to acknowledge his Other's lack of responsibility.

In an inhuman show of grace and weightlessness, Hadrian glided to his full height of 5 feet 11 inches, 6 feet had he been wearing boots. The Invisibility Cloak draped loosely over his shoulders and contrasted against the long inky waves of slightly unruly hair that seem to blend into the smokey black robe he has taken to wear over the past millennia. The Resurrection Stone as always, rests on his left index finger while the Elder Wand is stuck haphazardly in his hair in a negligent attempt to pin the rebellious strands back from his face. 

Pale, shoeless feet tapped silently on the smooth glass floor as he moved to the very ledge of the tower that lack any barrier preventing a dangerous plunge down.

Staring out at his domain and the pools of blue light that dot the landscape and grace the otherwise barren world with an eerie beauty, Hadrian reached pale slender hands out from the voluminous sleeves to lift the ram skull and fit it against a face that look far too young and beautiful and eyes far too nature green and bright to be the face of Death but appropriate for a being known also as Life.

With a single step, he plunged over the tower.

In the middle of freefall, three pairs of great black feathered wings with an impressive wingspan burst from the eternally youthful being's back to ride the wind currents and carry their owner down towards the pools of blue light, close enough that his bare feet could skim them if he wanted. 

Long, dusty memories of flying on his Firebolt, on the backs of a hippogriff, a thestral, and a dragon, as well as the joy and exhilaration that accompanied them resurfaced in his mind palace, bringing a true smile on those pale, thin lips. Regrettably, it was hidden from view behind the ghostly mask.

It would seem that the only thing that could not lose its appeal was flying. That immortality came with his own set(s) of wings is probably the only aspect he enjoys about his immortal state.

After a while soaring across his domain, Hadrian paused in midair to pull the Elder Wand from his hair which instantly tumbled loose to frame the ram skull currently masquerading as a mask, creating an appearance that was reminiscent of the enigmatic and indomitable horned gods depicted in mortal tales.

Hadrian allowed the wand to spin in midair until it stopped, following the direction it pointed to on wings of tangible night.

Landing beside a pool of blue light that could not be differentiated from all the others, Hadrian crouched down to stir the substance that seems half water, half light with the point of the Elder Wand. Much like one would stir the contents of a pensieve. 

The window and portal into one of the many worlds of the universe depicted an unfamiliar reality in which supernatural beings exist legally and even peacefully alongside their human counterparts in a modern society. 

"Huh. Interesting." Hadrian mused thoughtfully. For what felt like in ages, he found his interest peaked.

Hadrian has not visited his original world in centuries but he knew that the wizarding world has yet to integrate with the Muggles and likely never will out of choice. This new world has no true witches and wizards, instead it has Wiccans and Voodoos who are able to use magic but on a weaker level to the wizarding world. It was mostly nature related and used for healing, for protection, fertility, or to banish negative influences though the effect was not as miraculous. The few harmful magic practiced by Wiccans and Voodoos were also not nearly as destructive as wizard spells could be, at least in terms of battle magic, enchanting and warding. Few beings can compare to wizards in terms of large scale magical destruction. 

The truly supernaturally powerful beings in this world would have to be the vampires with wereanimals slightly less so. Hadrian knew that the vampires and werewolves in his original world lacked any magic unless they had been wizards before the turn but that does not seem to be the case in this one. 

Over the years, Hadrian has interacted with a great number of supernatural or magical creatures from countless alternate worlds but vampires and weres had never inspired any interest in him. Why would they when faced with more fantastical creatures such as elven warriors, the Fae, and shapeshifting dragons?

He suppose this is a chance to observe vampire magic.

With that thought, the enigmatic figure of one Hadrian J. Peverell, otherwise know as the Master of Death and the reluctant King of Death's Realm, stepped forward and sunk into the pool of blue light, disappearing from sight.  
.  
.  
.  
July 10, 2017  
St. Louis, Missouri

Leisurely strolling down the streets of crowded people, Hadrian remained unnoticed as he observed the mortal happenings occurring around him. 

It was a hot summer evening and the crowds would have been an annoyance were it not for his powers repelling them in a five meter radius around him, allowing him to pass by without being jostled or bombarded by body odor. Not that any of them noticed who walked in their midst. 

If Hadrian had revealed himself, he was quite sure there would have been screams and traffic accidents. For he had not bothered to change a thing of his otherworldly appearance. The ram skull mask and black robes would have most likely been unsettling, not to mention the inhuman way he moved, his bare feet making no contact with the ground.

As he drifted through the crowds like a specter, Hadrian eventually walked into an area of neon lights and even more crowds.

Some of the venues along the street had posters of vampire movies, or catch-phrases from novels most likely about vampires. Tourists were wandering in groups and couples and whispering excitedly as they pointed out dark windows and bright signs.

Hadrian had seen much in his long life, but this managed to be one of those eye-brow raising moments. Particularly when he came across a building with a garish pink neon sign. 

There was a long line of people waiting outside with a vampire acting as a bouncer in front of what, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a vampire strip club. A blink of incredulity at the ridiculousness of it all. And then he sensed it.

He thought he had been mistaken. But no, when he moved closer, the feeling only got stronger. A whisper of his magic, his powers, was inside that building. Intrigued, he moved past the line of people and vampire bouncer, stepping through the doors and towards the source of his curiosity. He had been quite sure he had never visited this particular world before not to mention leave something behind that practically reeked of his magic.

"How unexpected. Something interesting already?" Hadrian murmured to himself, his voice dissipating under the loud music and screams coming from the stage where a vampire was currently thrusting against a pole.

Going up the stairs which lead to a hall with only one door, Hadrian turned the door knob without hesitation.

The door closed softly behind him as Hadrian looked around a fairly boring room with a white couch, a white carpet, black walls and a black desk. Sitting behind the desk was another vampire; with a white shirt and black hair, he matched the room. 

Interestingly, despite the repelling charm he is keeping up, the vampire had actually looked up in his direction as if he had noticed the door opening and closing, an invisible entity now standing in his office. 

Hadrian idly noted this irregularity as his attention was taken by the pendant that was hanging from the vampire's neck. A highly polished sapphire the size of a robin's egg hung from a plain silver chain with a curious symbol engraved into the center of the jewel, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows and the Master of Death, to be more exact. A circle enclosing a triangle with a line bisecting the center. And Hadrian could tell instantly that it was his handiwork, created and charmed personally by him.

Looking up, he noticed that the vampire had moved, sweeping to his feet in a show of inhuman grace. His eyes were glowing a bright blue and still focused in his direction.

It would seem that the vampire had sensed his presence. Most likely a side effect of the pendant imbued with his magic.

"It is most impolite to enter without invitation, monsieur. Or is it mademoiselle?" A light French accent.

Hadrian examined the vampire in interest. The pendant was his creation but the owner he had no recollection of. Deciding to reveal himself, he lifted the hood of the Invisibility Cloak thereby breaking its effect, allowing it to masquerade as a silvery cloak and his appearance to fade into being, his aura filling the room. It was always amusing whenever he chose to reveal himself, whether the target was a human or a creature. Predictable in their fear, but amusing nonetheless.

What he received, however, was not the fear he had expected, but a strange mix of elation, adoration, and longing.

Thankfully, the skull mask hid the dumbfounded expression that crept up on his face for just a moment. It was soon replaced with one of intrigue.

In what looked like a blink of an eye, but to Hadrian a normal walking speed, the vampire had moved from behind his desk and across the room to stand in front of him. Hadrian idly noted the vampire to be two inches taller than him.

"Is that you, mon ange? Have you come back to me?" 

Hadrian watched with continued interest as the pale shaking hand reached up towards his face, stopping just shy of touching the bone of his mask, as if afraid of it all being an illusion. He also wondered at the endearment which spoke of familiarity between them that he does not recall.

He finally spoke up. "You know me, vampire?"

Blinking at the contradictory expressions of anguish and elation, Hadrian remained still, content to wait for his answers. He was not in a hurry after all, and nor did he want the mystery to be over so quickly.

Composing himself together, the vampire's eyes remained unblinking as he stared. And if Hadrian had been anyone else, he would have certainly been unsettled for he could catch a flicker of obsession in those lovely blue eyes that glowed bright with vampire magic and matched the sapphire that hung from his neck.

"Have you forgotten? You were the one who gave this to me, mon ange, Hadrian. It has protected me these many years while I searched for you." Dropping his hand to stroke lovingly at the pendant, the vampire kept his eyes on the enigmatic figure in front of him.

Hearing his name absolved any possibility that this was just a simple case of mistaken identity. It would seem that sometime during his wanderings among timelines and worlds, he had made the acquaintance of this particular vampire. And had become invested enough to gift him an amulet of protection imbued heavily with his magic.

"Ah yes. You do have something of mine. I do not, however, recall meeting you, much less giving it to you." Drifting over to the leather couches, he touched the back of an armrest idly, ignoring how the vampire followed closely.

"Well, it has been centuries since. If you allow it, I would like to refresh your memory. Or simply get to know me again." In a smooth gesture, the vampire lifted his hand in his, bowing over it as he pressed soft lips to the back of his hand. "It is my pleasure to meet you again, mon ange. My name is Jean-Claude." The vampire's confidence had returned, accompanied by the seductive power that all vampires possess and that this one seemed to wield in abundance. Not that Hadrian was affected in anyway as he quirked his lips in amusement, ignoring the vampire's voice tickling his skin. 

Jean-Claude was an intriguing distraction from his ennui. It did not hurt that he was also pleasant to look at. 

"Hello, Jean-Claude. My name is Hadrian. Hadrian James Peverell." He added the rest of his names in an afterthought.

Removing his hand when the vampire, Jean-Claude, lingered too long, Hadrian moved away to sink down on one of the couches, elegantly sprawling on it with his elbow propped up on the armrest.

Jean-Claude settled closely next to him with no regard for personal space, his ridiculously tight leather clad thigh pressed up against his robed one.

"Will you take down your mask? I have not seen you for so long, mon ange." Jean-Claude entreated, fingers reaching out to curl a lock of his hair.

Hadrian eyed him in interest, allowing the liberty taken with his person. It had been awhile since he had gone without his mask among mortals. And yes, vampires were mortals to him. Anything that can die were mortals.

A moment later, the ram skull mask faded into nothing, leaving his face bare and his otherworldly beauty revealed.

A sharp inhale of breath was heard. "Mon ange…you look just as I remembered. So beautiful…"

Too blue eyes were partially hidden by lowered lashes but Hadrian could still feel the heavy gaze as it greedily took in his features.

Hadrian never understood why the few mortals that gazed upon his true appearance became so enamoured with his physical appearance. He knew that he did not look human.

Sure, he has taken on the shape, but the one time he ever studied his reflection, he always felt that something was wrong with the visage. The angles and lines, are too crisp, too polished. Too symmetrical.

All the softness of humanity, the flaws, have been bled out of him, leaving him to become something more, and yet less, all at the same time. Even vampires did not look this unearthly and as if they did not belong. It was a reminder that he was no longer human. No longer mortal.

They were interrupted, however, to the obvious displeasure of Jean-Claude by a knocking on the door. 

"What is it, Robert. It had better be important." 

The coldness was completely different to the lovestruck feeling he had been giving off previously. This was the master vampire's true nature it seemed. Or at least in front of others.

There was a pause before the door opened and a blonde vampire entered. Before he could speak, however, he caught sight of Hadrian. Hadrian observed in apathy as Robert the vampire stood still with a dazed look on his face, eyes dilated.

Jean-Claude cleared his throat in irritation, getting smoothly to his feet and blocking Hadrian possessively from view.

"Robert." There was a hidden warning in that one word.

Blinking back to attention, Robert quickly responded. "It's the master of the city. She has orders for you."

Irritation was replaced with seriousness as Jean-Claude looked at the papers he was given. Robert had already left the room, respectfully closing the door behind him, not daring to steal one last glance at Hadrian.

"Problems, Jean-Claude?" Hadrian remained on the couch, watching as the vampire went to sit behind his desk.

"My apologies, mon ange. There have been murders of the vampires under the master of the city. I have been ordered to look into it." Casting an apologetic look at Hadrian, blue eyes soft with affection.

"Hmm. I did not know you had a master. Why? You are a master vampire yourself."

Jean-Claude smiled ruefully, "Many are more powerful than I. Nikolaus is one example. I have your protection from the pendant but while that allows me to not fear from harm or forced into something unwilling from stronger vampires, it does not give me the power to overcome them either."

Hadrian tapped his fingers idly on the armrest. Indeed, the pendant was charmed purely for defensive and protective purposes. 

"Will you be staying, mon ange?" 

Looking up into hopeful blue eyes that were a midnight blue, almost black without the vampire magic making them a glowing bright blue, Hadrian found himself nodding. It was not like he had anything better to do.  
.  
.  
.  
And Hadrian had stayed, the both of them needing no sleep. Or at least not during the night. He watched Jean-Claude do paperwork, which would have been boring if not for occasional snatches of conversation that was mostly centered on the past six centuries Jean-Claude had been alive. Hadrian offered no information of his own, though he knew the other was curious.

He also learned that their first encounter had been during Jean-Claude's childhood when he had yet to be inflicted with the vampire curse.

Dawn eventually came and Jean-Claude had to return to his daytime resting place under the Circus of the Damned, the residence of the master of St. Louis and daytime resting place for the St. Louis kiss of vampires. 

Out of curiosity, Hadrian accompanied Jean-Claude while being visible only to the other to observe the rest of the vampires of the city and their boss. It was not particularly inspiring. Jean-Claude seemed to be the only vampire he had come across that was tolerable and even interesting company.

He stayed until Jean-Claude fell under vampire sleep, looking very much like a pretty corpse who had died with a smile on his face.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say thank you to everyone that has reviewed the story, or left a kudos. This story has been in the back of my mind for awhile now and I'm so overwhelmed with all the positive response that confirmed to me my story idea is worth reading. I've always wanted to write an Anita Blake-Harry Potter crossover and I'm glad that there are others out there who are also interested in this crossover. It's not a very popular crossover is it? 
> 
> Well, here's the next chapter. I hope you guys like it :)

As Hadrian wondered the city that was bathed pleasantly in the light of dawn, he left behind the vampire district and entered one crowded by men and women dressed in business attire. 

Business hours seemed to have started. Perhaps he should find a real estate agency and go about becoming legal in this world? He had promised to stay and couldn't keep constantly popping to and from Death's Realm.

He was quite familiar with the process of establishing an identity and everything that went alongside such as creating a bank account and buying a home. He had done it many times before in other worlds. Nothing a few confounding and memory charms couldn't fix.

And so, it was a changed Hadrian that was seen exiting the bank and heading towards the nearest real estate agency. Instead of the silvery cloak and smokey black robes, Hadrian was now dressed in a lightweight draped front trench coat of black silk and textured linen over a dress shirt in black chiffon that was tucked into slim black jeans, accentuating his long legs. For once he was also wearing shoes, black leather gladiator style sandals for the summer season. The Invisibility Cloak, as always did not leave his person, but was currently masquerading as a silvery scarf of indeterminate fabric draped casually over his shoulders. His long inky waves were tucked up into a wide brimmed black fedora that casted a shadow over inhumanely flawless, sculpted features but left the graceful curve of his neck visible. His unnaturally verdant green eyes were further hidden behind darkly tinted round spectacles reminiscent of his old life as Harry Potter. 

Everything considered, Hadrian thought he did well in dimming the more otherworldly aspects of his person and blending in with the mortals. He could have just completely changed his appearance or alter his features to be more human but it was a nuisance to have to remember maintaining a disguise. Besides, humans have the habit of ignoring the reality of what's in front of them. 

Unfortunately for the reclusive Master of Death, he still very much stood out and drew the eyes of all those he passed. 

Indeed, it had taken awhile before his real estate agent managed to respond without blushing, the expected cool professional competence much more difficult for the poor woman to maintain than usual.

Hadrian ignored it politely. Mortals were so easily taken in by appearances after all.

"Yes," Hadrian walked along the glass walls of the glass penthouse at the top of the forty-two storey luxury residential tower, gazing out at the panoramic view of the city. "This will do nicely, I think."

The glass walls, double-height ceilings, and panoramic views of the city reminded him of his glass castle in Death's Realm and had a rather appropriate name - the Palace in the Sky.

It was probably no surprise that he would choose to make his mortal home in the tallest tower he could find. He always did adore heights, the higher the better. Not to mention the convenience of being able to take off for a nighttime fly over the city from the balcony that the windows open to.

"I'll take it."

Seeing the real estate agent, who had left with a huge smile on her face and clutching a check worth several millions, out at the private glass elevator, Hadrian strolled back into the penthouse. The entire place had already come furnished which he appreciated greatly as he sank into the plush white couch out on the balcony. He was never one for interior decoration.

As he enjoyed the light summer breeze, his thoughts returned back to Jean-Claude. The vampire would probably be unsettled by all the glass walls as they were designed to let sunlight in rather than keep it out.

Hadrian chuckled soundlessly. The vampire was an intriguing puzzle and it wasn't just the fact that they seemed to share a past. He had taken the chance to observe the other vampires in the St. Louis kiss Jean-Claude was part of and frankly, it was Jean-Claude who did not seem to belong. For one, he did not have the vampire mindset - cruelty with a side of superiority. And the other vampires seem to treat him with both a mix of wariness and contempt. It was quite obvious that most of them coveted and feared the pendant he wore and the power it represented. 

From what he had gathered, less powerful vampires were often preyed on by more powerful ones and sometimes even faced being given away as playthings if they were unfortunate enough to serve under a cruel master vampire. The pendant that was imbued with his magic was a powerful protection amulet that prevented any harm to befall its owner even against creatures much more powerful, such as the Vampire Council. After all, to break the protection charms and wards on the pendant, one must be as powerful as Hadrian or even more powerful, and that was impossible. There was no other existence like Hadrian after all.

Hadrian did not quite know what to feel about the whole situation. While it was unexpected, somewhat exciting in the mystery it presents, to not be able to remember Jean-Claude despite his immortal memory, he did not find it unpleasant to have gifted the other with a bit of his magic. Especially after hearing from the vampire himself how it has aided and protected him over the centuries while under cruel masters like the vampire Julius - or was it Julian? - and Belle Morte who, according to Jean-Claude, enjoyed tormenting the vampires under them.

It was rather gratifying to know that his powers had actually helped a mortal instead of corrupt them as Jean-Claude, despite having lived and seen things for quite a long time for mortals still managed to retain the humanity, the good in him.  
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The District was even more crowded than the last time he'd been there, but that was probably because it was an hour after full dark rather than just after dusk. The crowds were huddling together, whispering and pointing excitedly, trying to decide which vampire business to enter. 

Hadrian almost felt a semblance of mortality, as if he belonged among these excited mortals, as he wandered through the crowds. 

Unlike last time, he is fully visible to mortal eyes and even looked somewhat like an ordinary young man at the peculiar age where one is stuck in between teenage and adulthood. That is, if not for his rather intimidating beauty and equally intense presence. At least rather than drawing screams of alien fear, he is instead treated to appreciative stares, though none were brave enough to approach him, instincts that they probably weren't even aware of warning them away. 

With his hearing, he could make out a group of giggling women who were actually discussing him in whispers as he passed not too far from them just outside a vampire pub.

"Do you think he's a vampire?"

"Vampire or not, I haven't seen anyone better-looking. Not even models have such a flawless complexion and symmetrical features."

"He looks a bit young though. I wonder if he has reached past twenty yet?"

"I wouldn't mind some fun with him even if he isn't legal."

"You are such a cougar, Lisa!"

Hadrian's lip twitched into a smirk as he moved past the group of women who had now burst into teasing laughter. He wonders what they would make of his true age?

It was in a rather pleasant mood that he was in when he reached the strip club. 

Surprisingly, he met Jean-Claude standing just outside the doors, next to the bouncer vampire he recognized from last night.

"Hadrian!" The smiling vampire stepped past the line of people coming to stand in front of him. "You look different tonight." 

Smouldering blue eyes examined him from the top of his fedora down to his leather gladiator style sandals. 

"Do I fit in? I was going for a mortal look." Hadrian smiled slyly, looking over his tinted spectacles to meet midnight blue eyes.

"Mon ange, I do not think you can truly blend in with the crowds. Mortal or otherwise." Jean-Claude purred lowly.

Hadrian simply smiled at the flirtation. He had to admit, he was rather enjoying the interaction.

_When was the last time you had gotten laid, Master?_

Hadrian ignored the unwelcome input from his Other, shoving him into the back of his mind. Jean-Claude was hardly a prospective lover, simply a distraction from his constant ennui. 

_Have the desires of the flesh not touched you in so long that you now fail in recognizing it?_

Thankfully, Jean-Claude interrupted what would have most likely devolved into another round of insulting and arguing with his Other, or himself as the case may be. 

"Will you allow me to entertain you this night, mon ange?" 

"I am rather in need of a distraction." Hadrian agreeably placed his hand in the one held out to him. 

"Well then, how about partaking in the services of my humble club? You had not fully seen what it has to offer last night, I believe." Jean-Claude grinned.

Amused, Hadrian replied, "I don't believe I've ever partaken in the services of strip clubs before." And it was a surprise to realise that he had been to shady pubs overrun by pirates and prostitutes, brothels and courtesan houses of ancient China, and even an S&M club that caters only to the Fae, but have yet to truly visit a strip club.

"Well then, there is a first for everything, no?" Jean-Claude stroked suggestively at his knuckles with the thumb of the same hand he was holding Hadrian's in, making an effort to roll his voice.

And as Hadrian sat at a table at the back of the club next to Jean-Claude, in a room mostly consisting of women and the occasional reluctant boyfriend, he took in his surroundings. The room was full of liquor and laughter, and a few faked screams as the vampire waiters moved around the tables. There was an undercurrent of fear. That peculiar terror that mortals get off on from roller coasters and at horror movies, safe terror.

The lights went out. Screams echoed through the room, high and shrill. Real fear for an instant. Jean-Claude's voice came out of the darkness. "Welcome to Guilty Pleasures. We are here to serve you. To make your most evil thought come true."

His voice was silken whispers in the small hours of night. Hadrian had to raise his eyebrow in appreciative surprise. The vampire certainly had a showman's flair.

What happened next, however, was rather boring in comparison. The first stripper was a vampire junkie named Philip, who was covered in vampire bites. He was soon joined by a vampire named Robert who fed from Philip, coincidentally the very same blonde vampire he saw last night in Jean-Claude's office.

He swirled his tumbler of whiskey as he idly observed the women entranced by vampire magics around him, hidden as he was at the back of the club.

"What are you thinking, mon ange?" A breathed question, Jean-Claude sat so close he was practically in his lap.

Shooting the vampire a mild look of annoyance. He didn't appreciate the crowding. Nevertheless, Hadrian answered the other.

"How strange mortals are to get off on vampire bites. The vampire had not even put him under. I could taste his fear of Death at that moment. And yet."

"Oh you are truly an innocent, mon ange." Jean-Claude laughed softly in delight. "You must have lived longer than I. Longer than even those on the Council. And yet you remain so untouched by the world. Surely you have seen something similar? Humans have some of the most colorful fetishes."

"Hardly an innocent. And yes, I've seen my fair share. And yet, no matter how long I spend examining them, the actions and thoughts of mortals always remain puzzling. Even though I used to be one of them." Hadrian replied defensively, not knowing he gave more away than he thought.

Jean-Claude watched the other for a moment under lowered lashes.

"I did not ask you before in fear of offending you. But I simply must know. What are you, Hadrian? You are not a vampire as far as I can tell. Daylight and religious artifacts do not affect you, not to mention, I've seen your wings and performing magic that most beings I've come across cannot even imagine." He tapped meaningfully at the Hallows pendant.

Hadrian's eyes noticeably widened in astonishment. He had revealed his wings to the other?

"Ah yes, you do not remember how we met." Jean-Claude smiled in an almost self-deprecating manner.

"It was a most miraculous experience for me, you know. I can still recall every detail and feeling even now. It's the reason why I have always referred to you as mon ange. My angel." The rueful smile melted into one of nostalgia and fondness with a hint of awe.

Hadrian observed quietly. "Will you tell me about it?" He could simply pluck the memory from the vampire's mind to satiate his curiosity but he found he was unwilling to violate the other in such a way. Even if the vampire would never know it.

"If you truly cannot remember then I will. But indulge me for now?" Jean-Claude beseeched in a manner that left Hadrian feeling rather guilty at his lack of memory. Perhaps he should set some time aside to shuffle through his mind palace. The memory was most likely forgotten somewhere behind his Occlumency shields.

"Hmm." In answer to the vampire's previous question, Hadrian only revealed, "It has been over five millennia since I was human and mortal. I used to be part of a race of humans who could manipulate their surroundings and bend the laws of nature with the magic that ran through their veins. Rather similar to the Wiccans you know, but with more potent power. A twist of fate left me irrevocably changed with abilities beyond the grasp of any mortal and I became the only one of my kind." Hadrian couldn't quite keep the hint of bitterness out from his voice. 

"I see. Thank you for sharing, mon ange. Does this mean that you are not in fact an angel of the Lord?" Jean-Claude smiled but the shock was still visible in the widened eyes and momentary unnatural stillness.

Hadrian forgot to be melancholy as he let out a surprised laugh that even caught himself off guard. When was the last time he had laughed out loud in true amusement? 

"No, I am not an angel. I expect many religious mortals would lambaste me for saying this, but God does not exist. Neither do his angels. They are simply mortal creations and the fact that instruments of the Christian religion such as holy water and the cross can do so much harm to dark creatures like vampires is simply due to the magic inherent in the believer. Have you ever known holy water blessed by a non-believer to work? Or a non-believer waving a cross? There is magic in strong beliefs rooted in faith."

"That is very enlightening. It relieves me to know that there is not a god out there who would strike down me and my kind." Jean-Claude smiled wryly.

Hadrian smirked. There was no god who could smite the vampires and other creatures of darkness but he comes close. Only, he has very little interest in smiting anything. In essence he was a keeper of balance and vampires and other 'evil' creatures had their own place in the natural order.

"Have you found the culprit targeting your fellow vampires?"

Jean-Claude took the change of topic in stride."Not yet. But we've employed the services of an animator and preternatural expert consultant with the St. Louis police."

"Vampires and human police, working together?" Hadrian arched a brow.

"Ms. Blake is not part of the police, merely a liaison. She is also an animator with supernatural powers of her own. The vampires do loath bringing any humans in but we are not investigators." Jean-Claude shrugged elegantly.

Hadrian gave him a shrewd look, "And this Ms. Blake agreed to help the vampires?"

Jean-Claude peered coyly through lowered lashes. "It matters not what humans want to vampires. There are ways to get them…agreeable. Nicolaus is not one to be gracious with rejection."

Hadrian said nothing further, merely quirked his lip in response. It had been a great long while since he grew righteous at the smallest injustices. 

Instead, he slipped out of his seat, making his way to the exit. "I am in the mood for some fresh air. While your club is truly...singular, I find myself rather unpleasantly bombarded with sweat and women's perfume."

Jean-Claude followed gracefully behind, a fact which Hadrian raised a single brow in query at. "Do you not need to run your club?"

"I'm sure my employees can do without me for a few hours. I've yet to fulfill my duties as a host after all." Jean-Claude purred, his vampire magic rose and rubbed against Hadrian like a big cat.

It left strange feelings behind that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Curious perhaps. He's had both men and women try to seduce him when he walked amongst mortals in the past but never in such ways before. Jean-Claude's powers reminded him much of the abilities of succubi and their male counterpart incubi, one of the many subgroups that make up the Fae. And like incubi, he had also noticed that Jean-Claude seem to draw sustenance from the lust of the women back in the club during the show.

Hadrian looked idly around as he walked down the streets, hearing the click of heeled boots keeping pace behind him. 

"Have you decided how to spend the rest of your night yet, mon ange?" Jean-Claude called out behind him.

Glancing over a shoulder in askance, Hadrian raised a brow in interest. "Not particularly. Do you have a suggestion?" 

Jean-Claude's smile widened and gestured for Hadrian to follow him.

Several blocks later they had left the vampire district, arriving in downtown St. Louis, not too far from his own penthouse apartment in fact.

They soon came to a stop at the Gateway Arch which was glowing practically white in the darkness, lit as it was by spot lights.

"The arch is closed for the evenings," Hadrian said as soon as the vampire stopped next to him. The real estate agent from earlier that day had gone into depth on the famous sightseeing places not far from his apartment in hopes of making the sale even more appealing.

"Yes, mon ange, however, I find the night view to be far more stunning than the day view," Jean-Claude replied while leading Hadrian over to a path through the trees.

Hadrian wondered if Jean-Claude had ever actually seen the day view, but tactfully did not comment. 

"Well, I suppose it does look nice all lit up like that," he said instead. Nothing compared to most of what he had seen before of course.

Beside him, the vampire laughed. "I meant of course, mon ange, the view from the top of the monument, not of the great Arch itself."

Hadrian caught the cheeky smirk the vampire flashed at him. Catching on, Hadrian returned the smirk. While he could easily bypass the doors and locks, there was an even more straightforward way. After all, he was capable of various modes of transportation, apparition and flying being only two, was he not? And as for the vampire…

As if in answer to his thoughts, the vampire looked carefully around the clearing the path had led them to before throwing a mysterious smirk at Hadrian.

Before them, the cement path widened out to encompass one of the arch's enormous legs, easily wider around the base than a fully grown giant. Though the memorial park was dark and nearly empty, there were still multiple spotlights all pointing up at the arch's graceful curve, bathing the ground in a soft white light, and a few tourists were wandering about the wide field admiring the glowing monument.

Jean-Claude watched the people walking past, then, as one couple walked around the arch and another group turned to look over the river, ran up to the base of the closest leg of the arch. The next moment, he was in the air.

Hadrian watched as Jean-Claude ran higher and higher up the side of the steep structure.

Finally, Jean-Claude made one last lunge that propelled him over the top of the arch's curve, landing on the somewhat flat apex. 

Hadrian returned the smug smile the vampire directed down at him with a playful one of his own. If a competition in supernatural abilities was what the other was after…

Just after he casted a wide area Notice Me Not ward directed towards Muggles, great black wings burst from his back, the rips in his clothes mending themselves so that only two slits remain to allow the wings movement. In a powerful show of wing strength, Hadrian completed a vertical takeoff with just two powerful flaps of his wings.

Landing beside the momentarily stunned vampire, Hadrian neatly folded his wings behind his back, their height as tall as his own. His fedora having vanished when it flew off during flight, long inky waves flowed down his back, blending in with his wings and clothes. If not for the moon paleness of his skin and the brilliant green of his eyes, he would have blended completely with the night.

Ignoring the vampire's gaze for the moment, Hadrian looked out, over the edge of the arch, to the city below. 

The city was glowing gold, street lamps and buildings all lit up together and reflecting off the pavement. The whole city was stretched out before him, fading from a river of light to faint, flickering pinpricks, like stars, in the distance.

"Hmm, not bad. Do you come here often?"

Shaking himself from the loss in composure and temporary trip into a past memory, Jean-Claude's lips curled at the ends. "As often as I find myself needing a few moments alone and unobserved."

"That doesn't work if you bring someone with you." Hadrian met Jean-Claude's gaze pointedly.

"Unless I wish to share the solitude and beauty with one who might appreciate it himself." Jean-Claude gave a small smile with no sign of fangs, eyes lingering for a moment on his wings before looking out at the city view.

The wind from this high up was cool and untamed by trees or skyscrapers and Hadrian found it a rather pleasant and novel experience as he walked to the edge and sat, legs dangling over the side. There was no natural wind in Death's Realm, everything was still and constant as Death.

Hadrian could not remember the last time he had simply sat and enjoyed what the mortal world had to offer. He had slept away the last two centuries and for a while before that had existed as a hermit in his glass castle, refusing to leave Death's Realm.

"It is such a lovely night, mon ange," Jean-Claude said, startling Hadrian from his musings. The vampire had sat down a bit away from him, also dangling his legs over the edge. "Yet you still look so solemn. May I ask what has you so distracted?"

Hadrian smiled. "Simply thinking on how pleasantly novel this is. I can't remember the last time I had actually taken the time to appreciate what the mortal world has to offer."

"Well, you had lived for over five thousand years, did you not? I can only imagine that you must have already seen everything the world has to offer to the point that they have all become commonplace and bland." Jean-Claude offered.

"That makes me sound rather spoiled." Hadrian laughed softly.

"Not spoiled. Simply an effect of having lived too long. It is a common occurrence among the vampires, myself included. Still, there are many pleasant sights to be had. Pleasant company as well." Jean-Claude gave a knowing smile.

"Hmm. Perhaps you are right. My self-imposed melancholy has caused me to lose out on a lot of things. Did you know, I adored flying best but I haven't truly had a nice long flying session in awhile." Standing up, Hadrian stretched his impressive sets of wings out to full length.

Jean-Claude stood with him. "Yes, I do recall that." There was an inexplicably soft look in his eyes.

Hadrian tilted his head in an almost bird-like fashion as he observed the other for awhile. He then found himself stretching a hand out to the other, "Would you like to accompany me? As thanks for giving me a much needed wake-up call." Hadrian grinned playfully, and for the first time, those apathetic eyes, cold like the emeralds they resemble, and the aura of indifference that clung to his slender form melted away in favor of something human, youthful even. 

"It would be my honor, mon ange." Jean-Claude took the hand offered to him but quickly turned it over to place a kiss on the back, midnight blue eyes looking up through thick lashes.

Hadrian hid a shiver with a roll of his eyes. "No need to seduce me. I won't drop you. Promise."

Before Jean-Claude could respond, with something most likely flirtatious he suspects, Hadrian tugged him closer with their entwined hands. Wrapping his free arm around the strong waist, their bodies pressed close with legs entwined, Hadrian flapped his wings once, twice, before taking off from the arch.

Only were they high above the city did Hadrian finally focus on the vampire pressed rather intimately against him.

"If you had wanted to be closer to me, mon ange, you only had to ask." An unsteady, breathless whisper in his ear. It lacked the vampire's usual smooth seductive tone but in contrast that only brought a flush to Hadrian's ears. 

Now that the vampire had pointed it out, Hadrian realised that he had managed to land himself in a rather awkward situation. The lukewarm body heat of the other, the vague musky fruity scent of blackberries - it all seemed magnified ten times, not even the rush of the night air could dispel it. It had been so long since he had been this close to another being.

Furrowing his brows at the long forgotten sensations, he could only take comfort in the fact that the vampire seem to be just as affected, whether it was due to their flight or their lack of personal space. 

A brief press of nails to his waist was Hadrian's only response before he cleared his mind and focused on the joy of flying.

Hadrian rode the air currents, abstaining from doing any aerial stunts for the moment. He didn't want to traumatize Jean-Claude after all.

The city spread out below them like a sea of lights, with tall buildings and skyscrapers jutting out like rocks above the ocean.

"What do you think? Do you like it?" Hadrian found himself asking in curiosity. He hopes the other enjoys flight as much as he does.

"It is wondrous, mon ange. You are wondrous. But should we really be flying so low? It is night but we might still be seen. I do not think the world is ready for a being as impossible as you are." Jean-Claude spoke into his hair, arms gripping just below where his wings grew out of.

"Don't worry. We are invisible to any who might look our way." Hadrian replied smugly, as he flew by a skyscraper.

"Ah. You always surprise me, mon ange. I should stop expecting anything otherwise."

They spent the next half hour enjoying the aerial view of St. Louis before Hadrian landed on the balcony of his penthouse.

"Is this where you live, mon ange?" Jean-Claude looked around in obvious curiosity. Hadrian moved across the open plane space to the fridge located in the kitchen half of the room. Taking out a bottle of water he drank from it while leaning against the glass kitchen island. He did not need food or drink but he always felt thirsty after flying, a psychological habit he supposes.

"I bought it this morning. I did promise to stay and this is an acceptable resting place." Hadrian responded.

"It is luxurious but I have to say there is a lot of glass." Jean-Claude smiled wryly.

Hadrian smirked. "Your vampire instincts disapproving?"

"Not as such, though I wouldn't dare take a nap on this couch, comfortable though it is." The vampire leaned back on said couch, lifting a leg to lie along its length and stretching out on it.

Hadrian snorted in amusement. His new home was far from the preferred dwelling of vampires.  
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When Hadrian finally dropped Jean-Claude off at his club it was very early in the morning. He and Jean-Claude had continued speaking, mostly trivial matters, for another hour or so. Then, he had disapparated with the vampire in the interest of saving time for the other.

He thought about the evening and his odd growing relationship with Jean-Claude as he laid down on his bed staring up at the skylight, idly watching the sunrise. He'd first been drawn to the vampire because of the mystery but now, after just a short period of time, he found himself enjoying him for his company. He had been alone for so long, it felt novel to actually have a conversation with someone other than his Other. He even enjoyed the vampire's occasional attempts at seducing him whether through vampire magic or just plain flirtation. If this had happened in the past he would have long corrected what he had considered presumptuous.

It was a refreshing experience to just relax and enjoy the company.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back with a new update. I apologize for those who were waiting. I had a slight writer's block that kept me from maintaining my 5000 word count per chapter. I decided to upload it as is otherwise I don't know how long it would drag on. Sorry about that! Anyway, hope this chapter won't be too disappointing.

The bright afternoon sun shone down through the skylight and the glass walls of the minimalist bedroom, casting a halo of sunshine on the figure sitting cross-legged on the large king size bed. 

Hadrian had been deep in meditation, reinforcing his Occlumency shields and organizing his memories. His mind palace greatly resembled the floating glass castle in Death's Realm, a confusing labyrinth of highly polished obsidian glass walls that reflects images and illusions. Rather like the house of mirrors in Muggle carnivals and amusement parks, it was disorienting with no doors but large windows that give the same view of barren landscape and glass walls that show parts of the maze-like castle that cannot yet be accessed. Sometimes the mirror walls may be distorted because of different curves, convex or concave in the glass to give those walking through the halls unusual and confusing reflections of themselves, some humorous and others frightening. 

Hadrian has had a long time to become used to the castle that could put Hogwarts to shame in terms of traps, secret passageways, and defensive properties. He honestly did not know why it was so heavily fortressed as he is the only one to even be able to enter Death's Realm, aside from his wraith-like servants who don't even stay long. But the castle does make an appropriate model for his mind palace, both for keeping memories organized and protected, not that he has to worry about anyone being able to penetrate his mind and reach the castle in the first place. He has not worried about that since he died as a human.

Blinking verdant green eyes open, Hadrian sighed in irritation, rubbing his temples to assuage the headache he has building. He had gone through all of his memories and still found nothing. At this point, he is convinced that he has yet to meet Jean-Claude's past self, a past memory for Jean-Claude but a future memory for him. That was a possibility for him as the Master who is not bound by time or place. He assumes something will happen to cause him to travel six centuries in the past of this specific world. His duty as the Master perhaps.

For now though, Hadrian was in need of a distraction.

Taking his private elevator down to the lobby of the residential tower, Hadrian nodded his head in acknowledgement of the doorman.

Today proved to be even more sunny and hot than the day before and Hadrian dressed appropriately in a simple thin, practically sheer black silk long sleeve shirt and loose black slacks rolled up at the hems to better show off the leather black gladiator style sandals that he was beginning to grow fond of. He left his inky waves free and flowing down his back, Invisibility Cloak once again as a sheer silvery scarf around his neck. The weather made no difference to him but it didn't hurt to fit in with the Muggles. 

Pushing up the tinted spectacles on his nose, Hadrian walked aimlessly looking around for a likely distraction. 

After twenty minutes of wandering and idle window shopping, Hadrian entered University City. What would have been a four and a half hour walk only took twenty minutes for the Master who could traverse through space and time. To the mortal eye, Hadrian would have appeared on one block and a blink later would have him already five blocks away, seamlessly blending in among the countless pedestrians, as if he had always been there in the first place. Hadrian could literally get anywhere he wished on feet in a short amount of time, making automobiles a completely moot point. It was why he had never bothered to learn to drive one of those metal contraptions. After all, so many more convenient and faster modes of transportation were available to him.

Suddenly, Hadrian paused outside a restaurant with a sign that was a glowing crescent moon with the restaurant name done in soft blue neon. Lunatic Cafe. Except for the name, and the sign, the place didn't look much different from all the other shops and restaurants in the college district.

But Hadrian knew differently. He could feel the energy burned in the air like the weight of a thunderstorm even without entering the restaurant. The wild energy was reminiscent of Remus and other shapeshifters he had come across. 

Noise poured around him just inside the door. A murmur of voices so thick it was like ocean noise. Silverware clinked, someone laughed high and bright like a hand rising from the noise, to be swallowed back again and lost. There was a bar along one wall, polished dark wood, old and lovingly cared for. The rest of the room held small, round tables that could comfortably seat about four. Every seat was full, and then some. Three doorways opened up; one beside the bar, one to the right, one in the middle. More tables were shoved into the smaller rooms.

The cafe had started life as someone's home. Hadrian glanced around in interest while standing in the living room. Through the doorways leading to the other rooms were open archways, as if someone had knocked down a few walls. Even with that, the place was claustrophobic. People were three deep at the bar waiting for a table. The place was jammed to bursting with happy, smiling people.

A majority of the happy, smiling people were shapeshifters. Their energy enough to saturate the place and make it more claustrophobic than it was. As Hadrian moved towards the bar, a face lifted here and there. Human eyes looked at the newcomer, but the glance wasn't human.

One of the women behind the bar came around, wiping her hands on a towel tucked into the tie of her apron. She gave a wide, welcoming smile, holding a pair of menus in her one hand.

"Welcome to the Lunatic Cafe, handsome stranger," the woman said. "I'm Raina Wallis, proprietor. What can I get for you?" She then gave a low laugh that was rich and bubbling. The kind of laugh that was meant for bedrooms and private jokes. The laugh gave her eyes and body a different look. She suddenly seemed more voluptuous, more sensual than just a second ago. 

Hadrian watched the shapeshifter, werewolf, in interest. It would seem the shifters of this world were like the vampires, had their own unique magic. Muggles they may have once been but now they were something more. Dangerous one could say. But any danger they could pose were negligible for a being such as himself. Raina the werewolf tried to hide it behind the sultry flirtation and use of her own magic but he picked up on the nervous energy that ran through her and the rest of the shifters in the room. The nervous energy associated with a predator meeting a bigger predator and was torn between fight or flight. 

He only just realized that he had never bothered to cloak his aura since entering this world. He knew it unsettled members of the supernatural communities and magic sensitive humans. He had once had his power described to him from a shifter as smelling a strange combination of the sickly sweet scent of dying funeral lilies and the ozone left in the air after a summer storm. It was strange that Jean-Claude had never said anything about it. He was not here to cause trouble after all. And after all his efforts to appear mundane.

Hadrian smiled pleasantly, dimming his power somewhat so that it was no longer as overpowering as it had been before and watched as the shifters noticeably relax from their previous tension.

"Treacle tart if you have it. But if not, anything sweet will do." 

"A man with a sweet tooth and not afraid to show it." Raina purred as she took down his order.

Rather than tend to her other customers, the woman instead lingered at his corner of the bar. "So what brings you to this part of town? If I'm not mistaken, that is a British accent you have there."

It was clear that his unintentional power leakage had drawn some curiosity. That and probably his new face. The establishment did seem to attract certain clientele of the furry variety.

Taking a spoonful of the slice of treacle tart placed in front of him, Hadrian took his time in answering. "Yes, you're right. I am from England. Just looking for a distraction from monotony." He never did lose his accent even after so long and immersed in so many other languages and cultures.

"Oh, how wonderful. Do you like St. Louis so far, my handsome English gentleman?" Hadrian idly wondered what it was with people giving him nicknames.

"It has been interesting. A nice change of pace from my usual." 

"And that was…?" Raina flirtatiously twirled a lock of her auburn hair.

Hadrian smirked at the obvious fishing for information. But answered truthfully. "Just sleeping and basically being a hermit inside my castle."

"I thought only vampires live in castles nowadays." Raina blinked her amber-brown eyes and then stated bluntly, no more playing coy. "You do not feel like a vampire, Mr. English Gentleman."

Hadrian smiled widely, flashing perfectly sharp white teeth, abnormally sharp and rather shark-like but no vampire fangs in sight. To Raina's credit she did not flinch. But then, most shifters would have been used to predator teeth. "What makes you think I am a vampire?"

"Well, you are certainly no mere human. I can feel the age and power that would have given the Master Vampire of St. Louis a run for her money. Also, you smell like death. It is a strange combination when paired with your heartbeat and ability to eat solids. I had thought you to be a human servant bound to a powerful vampire but I have met one of those. You do not resemble him. Vampire would be the closest but now I think otherwise. If not vampire, then what are you, Mr. English Gentleman?"

Hadrian raised a brow at the rather intelligent deduction. He was almost tempted to answer with the truth just to get a reaction but decided to stick with his usual vagueness. "Not anything you've come across before." And before Raina questioned further based on the narrowing of her eyes, he continued, "I am older than the vampire's council put together and I will still exist even once they and everything else are turned to dust. That was not a threat, in case you were wondering." 

Hadrian continued to take spoonfuls of his sugary treat even as every shifter in the room stiffened at his words. 

As he licked the last trace of treacle tart from his spoon, Hadrian looked up into the glowing wolf eyes of Raina. "Thank you for the treat, it tastes almost like authentic English treacle tart." He left a twenty dollar bill under his plate and slipped out of the restaurant, completely unaware that he just managed to put a roomful of shifters on edge.  
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Stepping outside the restaurant, Hadrian gazed at the purple and orange clouds of the evening sky. He felt like flying.

Shielding himself from mortal eyes and awareness, he let his inky wings burst free from his back in the middle of the pedestrian filled sidewalk. Perhaps he should find an empty alleyway first but he was feeling rather lazy. Two flaps of his wings that stirred up a powerful gust of wind that would be explained away as an unexpected strong breeze by the mortals around him who had been startled by it, and he was taking to the sky.

Hadrian followed the path a sparrow was taking before flying in the direction of downtown St. Louis.

Now that he was not carrying the burden of another person in his arms, Hadrian allowed himself to fly faster and perform flips and dives for his own amusement.

In no time at all, Hadrian was landing on the very top of the arch.

As he idly watch the sunset, admittedly spectacular from his perch on the arch, Hadrian considered visiting Jean-Claude for the lack of anything better to do.

It was rather depressing that his only friend was a vampire. But then, that tend to happen when one outlive everyone he knows. And if Jean-Claude got himself killed then he would be back to being friendless and bored. 

Flopping back to lay on his back, Hadrian let out a sigh. 

_Maybe that's a sign you should make more friends, Master?_

"What, and then bury them not long afterwards?" Hadrian responded out loud in a rather sour tone.

He was given what felt like a mental eyeroll. _You have the power to extend their lives, do you not?_

Like that worked out so well.

_There is just no pleasing some people._

Hadrian ignored his Other with well-practiced petulance. He was not going to make the same mistake a third time. Twice was humiliating enough.

Flapping his wings huffily, his pleasant mood disappearing, Hadrian took to the skies in a rush of feathers. 

Grumbling under his breath, Hadrian took no notice of his surroundings as he flew randomly. Not for long though, he was taken out of his musings by what sounded like horrible whimperings of pain.

Out of boredom, Hadrian flew lower so that his feet nearly skimmed the tops of the brick buildings in a rather rundown part of town. The moon was high and the stars were already out, denoting how late it was already.

Following the source of the sound that had managed to reach him from out of all the other noises in the city, he landed on a building that gave a perfect view of the alleyway connected to it.

What he saw had him visibly frowning. The whimperings of pain was coming from a dirty and bloody figure, a boy for he was too young to be considered a man, laying on the filthy floor, clutching onto innards that were literally spilling out of the gash in his middle. Not far from the boy were three other men in a faceoff, one of them clearly not human, judging by the wild aura that rose off him. 

He had hair cut just above his collar, so curly it looked like fur. He had thick eyebrows over dark eyes, with heavy, sensual features. His clothing matched his face. The boots that he had on were of soft, velvety leather. His pants were of shiny black leather. The shirt he was wearing was a muscle tank top that left most of his upper body bare. His right arm was covered from elbow to fingers in leather straps. The knuckles had spikes coming out of them. The hair on his chest was as curly and dark as the hair on his head. A black duster coat completed the ensemble.

The man was a shifter like the ones he came across in the restaurant that afternoon. But this shifter was clearly rather close to completing a full transformation, hands already partially transformed to the claws of a big cat, leopard perhaps.

Was today a day for meeting shifters or what?

Hadrian watched dispassionately as the leopard man tore into the two human males. He could have saved them but he knew their time amongst the living was up, as he made out two blue wraiths appearing to collect their souls before bowing to him, their King, and leaving as invisible to mortal eyes as they had arrived.

Besides, from his brief glimpse of their soul, those two human men were vile scums of the city who preyed on young street kids, their last victim currently bleeding out onto the floor.

Dropping down next to the boy who was miraculously still alive, Hadrian examined him clinically. The boy's time was not up but judging by the fact that his breathing was getting slower and coming far less frequently, he would not be long for the world.

"Are…you…angel?" Startled, Hadrian looked into pretty lavender eyes that were staring up at him. Not a common color, he mused idly, before he focused on the fact that the human boy could see him, despite his powers shielding him from mortal eyes. Perhaps, it was due to the fact the boy was essentially one foot in the afterlife that he could see Death himself.

"What are you mumbling about, kid? You're gonna die if I don't turn you into a shifter soon. So don't reject the change, alright." A low voice came from the leopard man who had just finished with his kills and currently licking blood from his claws.

The peace that had settled in those pretty lavender eyes when he saw Hadrian quickly gave way to pain and fear. The boy weakly shook his head, blood matted to his long auburn hair.

Hadrian remained silent as a spectator. So that was why the boy's time was not up yet. In this world, the change into a shifter or a vampire was the only thing that could heal a wound as serious as that. Unless he chose to heal it himself, of course. But he had grown to harden his heart against scenes of sufferings and personally killed the naive boy hero that he used to be. It would have driven him mad otherwise. 

Still, he couldn't prevent himself from crouching down and placing a hesitant hand on the boy's head. "Do not fear. You're time in this world is not up yet. The change into a shifter will heal your injuries and give you new powers. Harness those powers and you will be able to protect yourself in a similar situation to tonight's."

Though he said that, Hadrian was not too confident about the boy making the change from a victim to a predator despite his new supernatural advantages. No matter how he looked at it, this was obviously a helpless street kid with a victim mentality. And, casting a look at the leopard man, his alpha did not seem to be a very caring person either. 

Pursing his lips, Hadrian watched as the boy changed into a young midsized black leopard and back again, his injuries completely healed but his body weak and fatigued. The whole time, those lavender eyes were fixed onto his own rather than his new alpha.

He should have left by now but those eyes had the strange power to leave him rooted on the spot. Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, Hadrian let out a sigh of defeat. 

Materializing a plain leather band with only a single amethyst stone as embellishment, Hadrian tied it to the boy's right wrist. "Here, if you have need, just call for me with this." 

Without another moment of hesitation, Hadrian winged off in a rush of wind and feathers. He was not running away. Though it felt like he had just abandoned a kitten in a cardboard box in an alley. Grimacing, he realized that except for the cardboard box the analogy matched the situation rather perfectly.

Pushing away the absurd feeling, Hadrian flew faster. He remembers seeing a pool sized bath in his penthouse. A nice soak was in order.  
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"Phhhfffttt!"

Hadrian spat out the soapy water and bubbles he had accidentally consumed when he had slipped under while he had nodded off in the middle of a soak in the pool size extra luxurious bath built into the ground. 

He smacked his lips thoughtfully as he considered, "Hmmm, it tastes like oranges." 

"Idiot."

Hadrian shot a glare at the ram skull that had somehow appeared on top of a pile of fluffy towels embroidered with the pompous looking initials of H.J.P placed on top of a gold baroque armchair. The chair matched the gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the gold and crystal taps that surround the bath.

"I would appreciate some respect for personal me times, ok? It's creepy enough that I wake up with you on my pillow, I could do without you showing up during bath times as well. "

Before he had nodded off, Hadrian had been fooling around with the obscene amount of bath taps. It was rather fascinating adjusting the water pressure and choosing and mixing different colored and scented soaps that come with just a twist of a knob. It rather reminds him of the one time he had been in the Hogwarts prefects' bath. 

Looking out at the glass wall in front of him, he could make out the evidence of a lively night life in the distance. He had been soaking for over four hours. Good thing he's not human or he would look like a giant prune now.

Getting out of the bath, Hadrian flipped the ram skull like one might flip a turtle on its back with the intention of irritating the Other. Though, unlike a turtle, the ram skull effortlessly righted itself before disappearing with a noticeable huff. Just as he had wrapped one of those pompous but comfortable fluffy towels around his waist and had another one draped and rubbing at his hair, Hadrian heard the doorbell ring. 

He was mildly surprised. He had not been expecting visitors, especially not this late. As this was the penthouse, he was the only one on the floor so it was unlikely someone made a mistake. It was also unlikely a neighbor was visiting as the only way to get up here was through the private elevator and he was pretty strict about not letting others coming up on his turf. Deliveries were also impossible as they should have been left with the doorman if he had ordered anything in the first place. He had no friends or relatives to make housecalls either so that was a moot point. Not to mention it was very early in the morning.

Oh wait, there is one particular vampire who might be making a visit. 

Not bothering to get dressed, Hadrian strolled to the door and allowed it to swing open.


End file.
